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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26557495">Daughters of the Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckylavandula/pseuds/luckylavandula'>luckylavandula</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual Hermione Granger, F/F, Hogwarts, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:08:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26557495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckylavandula/pseuds/luckylavandula</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the sixth year at Hogwarts, and Hermione Granger is learning things about herself that she never though possible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. New Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>September first came in a haze of rain and chilly mist. The air was brisk, and a dense, almost melancholy feeling seemed to settle over London. Hermione Granger was sitting in the back seat of her father's Vauxhall Cavalier, checking her reflection in a dusty bronze pocket mirror. It was a miracle she wasn't conceded, for since her early days of buck teeth and frizzy hair, she had truly grown into a beautiful young woman. With deep brown eyes, soft curly hair and a radiant complexion, she seemed to bring warmth into every room she entered, and lately she had been attracting the stares and sometimes even shouts of strange men as she wandered the streets of London during the summertime. After years seeing herself as less than pretty, Hermione didn't quite know how to comprehend this newfound attention, and had simply ignored it, politely turning down any man brave enough to ask her on a date. She closed the mirror and returned her gaze to the shops and alleyways that were speeding past her window as the car rushed towards Kings Cross Station. Her parents were talking quietly in the front seats, but she couldn't be bothered to listen to their conversation. Hermione was thinking. She had spent a lot of time thinking this past summer, a lot of time sitting in a window seat at the Hampstead Garden Library reading her various school books, a lot of time drinking lukewarm coffee at the tea shop a few blocks from her parents house, a lot of time writing lengthy letters to Harry and Ron, a lot of time alone.</p><p>After everything that had happened at the Ministry and the end of last school year, Hermione had been on edge. Her obsessive reading of The Daily Prophet had not helped either, and while her parents were both loving and understanding, she knew that they would not be able to fully comprehend what was happening in her world, and she didn't want to worry them any more than they already were. She had been counting down the days, crossing off the squares on her calendar, until she could return to Hogwarts. She had missed school more than she had ever before, and she was longing to see her two best friends again. </p><p>"Hermione. Hermione, we're here," said her father. The family had arrived in the Kings Cross parking lot, full of cars and people, bustling around, worried about missing their trains.</p><p>"Hmm? What? Oh. I didn't realize," she replied, coming back to reality.</p><p>"That's okay hunny, let's grab your things out of the back."</p><p>Hermione grabbed her trunk with one hand, and lifted Crookshanks gingerly with the other. Her mother threw her rucksack over one shoulder, and the small family walked in silence out of the parking lot and towards the station. Once the three of them reached the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Hermione took her rucksack from her mother and hugged both of her parents.</p><p>"Be careful this year, and don't study too hard," said her father "remember to have some fun, okay?"</p><p>"Okay dad" Hermione replied with mock exasperation.</p><p>"We're going to miss you," her mother said, turning to her daughter with tears glimmering in her eyes. "We love you very much."</p><p>"I love you too. I'll write every week."</p><p>"And we'll reply," responded her father, smiling sadly. "Now you'd better get going, or you're going to be late."</p><p>Hermione looked at her parents, and with a sick, tight feeling in her throat turned her back to them and walked confidently through the solid brick barrier before her. As soon as she was through the barrier, her senses came alive. The yells and laughter of her classmates and their families filled her ears and she breathed in the steam that was billowing out of the bright red train before her. Feeling invigorated and optimistic, she grinned to herself and began to weave her way through the crowd of young witches and wizards, keeping her eyes open for any sign of flaming red hair. Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her torso.</p><p>"Hey! What the-" as the arms released her, Hermione turned around to find Harry Potter beaming at her, his glasses slightly askew. Ron appeared shortly after, panting.</p><p>"Christ Harry, you move too bloody fast," he complained, "Hi Hermione!" he said brightly, turning to her.</p><p>"You guys!" she said, grinning even broader than before, and setting down both her trunk and a rather disgruntled Crookshanks, hugged Ron as well. "Where's all of your things?" she asked.</p><p>"We've already found a compartment," said Harry. "We came out here to look for you."</p><p>Hermione picked up her trunk (Crookshanks had run off) and followed the two boys through the throng of people and onto the train. Both Ron and Harry had grown considerably over the summer, and she had to crane her neck to keep her eyes on them. As they walked towards their compartment, Hermione noticed people staring, whispering and even pointing as they went past. Harry seemed not to notice, but she could tell by the light pink shade that had appeared on the back of Ron's neck, that he was rather uncomfortable with all of the attention. Catching up with Harry and Ron, Hermione whispered "What's everyone staring for?"</p><p>"I suppose it's about the Ministry, isn't it," said Ron ominously. "They all know what happened there last summer, more or less. It's been all over The Prophet." Hermione had read all of the articles detailing the break in. Although much of the reporting couldn't have been more than guesswork, whoever had been doing the guessing had gotten incredibly lucky, for most of the information was as close to the truth as one could hope for from that wretched paper. "Plus Harry's back to being 'The Boy Who Lived' instead of 'The Boy Who Lied'," continued Ron.</p><p>"Oh please," said Harry smoothly, "I'm 'The Chosen One' now."</p><p>Once they finally reached the compartment, Hermione found three people sitting inside already. Neville was by the window reading an extremely old and tattered looking book, with a contented Crookshanks purring on his lap. Luna and Ginny were sitting opposite of him, giggling quietly with their heads together. Neville looked up as Hermione opened the compartment door.</p><p>"We found her," announced Harry pushing past her, as Luna and Ginny quickly slid away from each other, Luna casting an uncharacteristically sheepish look in Ron's direction. Ron ignored Luna's glance as he took Hermione's trunk from her and lifted it into the rack above their heads.</p><p>"You have a very lovely cat Hermione," said Neville, stroking Crookshanks. </p><p>"Well at least someone thinks so," she replied, throwing Ron a rather nasty look. Hermione took her place next to Luna as Harry and Ron sat beside Neville, Ron kicking up his feet over Harry's legs.</p><p>"Don't get too comfortable," said Hermione, "we have Prefect's duties, remember?"</p><p>"Oh yeah," said Ron glumly, bringing his feet back to the ground. "When do we get going anyway?"</p><p>"In like two minutes," replied Ginny, who had been rummaging around in her bag. She extracted a cricked copy of The Quibbler, and both she and Luna disappeared behind it without another word. Before Hermione could settle into her seat, she heard the train whistle blow, and felt the engine begin to move forward. Neville stuck his head out of the window to yell one last goodbye to his grandmother, and Ron stood up, stretching. </p><p>“Let’s go,” he said, turning to her, and together they waved goodbye to their friends and left for the Prefect’s compartment. She couldn’t help but notice that Harry looked slightly disgruntled as she and Ron left, and as the two of them walked silently towards the front of the train, she worried that he felt left out. But all other thought seemed to evaporate from her mind as soon as she slid open the door and entered the Prefect’s compartment.</p><p> Across the slightly crowded room stood a slender, beautiful girl. Her short, black hair fell silkily around her pale face, and her striking green eyes seemed to pierce Hermione as they stared at each other. She was wearing an emerald green top that hugged her figure in all the right places, and her black nails gleamed in the sunlight that was streaming through the window. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and her mind seemed to go numb as she looked at her, dumbfounded. Pansy Parkinson caught Hermione’s eye and raised an eyebrow. Hermione felt her face flush a bright pink as she looked away. Ron closed the door behind them and stepped into the space beside her, nearly knocking an unsuspecting fifth year over, as Professor Mcgonagall addressed the students.</p><p>“Hello everyone. Sixth years, let’s welcome our newer Prefects,” the younger children grinned shyly around the room, and some of the older students murmured words of greeting. Mcgonagall began to describe what they were to be doing while patrolling the train, listing off banned products and whatnot, but Hermione, for maybe the first time in her life, wasn’t listening while a teacher spoke. She was busy stealing glances at Pansy, her mind racing and her heart pounding. She had always thought Parkinson attractive, but the intense feeling that had flooded her body as soon as her eyes had met Pansy’s had taken her by complete surprise. She watched, agitated, as Draco Malfoy, who had been holding Pansy’s hand when she and Ron had entered the room, slowly moved his arm around Pansy’s waist, pulling her even closer into the side of his body. </p><p>“Alright,” Mcgonagall was saying, pulling Hermione out of her reverie, “everyone out of here. And I better not catch you keeping any fanged frisbees Goldstien,” casting a stern look at Anthony. </p><p>“See you in an hour,” said Ron, placing a hand on her shoulder as the two of them were ushered out of the compartment. “Hey, are you alright? You look a little weird.”</p><p>“What? Oh, fine,” she said, “just a little sleepy.”</p><p>“Okay, well, I’ll meet you back at our compartment,” and casting a concerned look over his shoulder, he walked away.</p><p>Hermione meandered the corridors in a kind of trance. She wasn’t in the mood to tell second years to stop yelling in the corridors and she certainly wasn’t in the mood to confiscate any fanged frisbees.Her mind was still on Pansy. She had never felt that way before, completely taken aback by someone like that. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way about a girl, a slytherin girl, but she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering into dark, empty classrooms with steamed up windows, soft, gentle hands exploring her body… </p><p>“Watch it Granger!” and once again Hermione was pulled rather forcefully back to reality. There stood Pansy, looking angry. “What are you blind?’ she said scathingly, “you just ran right into me!” </p><p>“Oh, I-” Hermione stuttered, completely unable to form a coherent thought, powerless to keep the color from flooding back into her cheeks.</p><p>“Whatever,” said Pansy, adjusting her skirt, and stalked off, looking thoroughly annoyed. </p><p>Shaken by this exchange, Hermione continued to walk the corridors without doing her job, only keeping her eyes open to avoid any more altercations. She returned to her compartment five minutes early, and spent the remainder of the trip in contemplative silence. As the others chatted merrily about Quidditch and which classes they were planning to take, Hermione pulled on her robes in a daze. She sat next to the window, pretending to read, wondering what on earth she was meant to do. As the sky darkened outside, Hermione began to worry in earnest. Maybe this was just a weird day. She could ignore what she had felt, yes, that was best, and proceed to pretend like Pansy didn’t exist. But even as she thought this, she knew it would be impossible. </p><p>“Hey,” said Ginny suddenly, pointing out the window, “we’re here.” And indeed they were.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dizziest Daydreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione collapsed, exhausted, onto her fourposter. The other girls were still milling about the dormitory, talking and unpacking their things before bed. Lavender and Parvati were whispering animatedly to each other, and while Hermione caught Ron’s name once or twice, she could not bring herself to care. Her mind was still racing. She couldn’t deny her attraction to Pansy, that much was for sure, but she still had no idea how to proceed. After another quarter of an hour just lying there, agonizing, Hermione wrenched herself up and got ready for bed, stripping off her robes and the clothes underneath and pulling on her red flannel pajama pants and on oversized t-shirt that she must have taken from the burrow- it still smelled faintly of Molly’s cooking. After washing her face and trying unsuccessfully to wrestle a comb through her hair, she fell back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and rolling to face towards the wall, trying to ignore the continued conversations of her classmates. After what seemed like ages, the voices around her died out, and a sleepy haze floated down around her agitated thoughts. Before she knew it, Hermione was falling into fitful dreams where black, silky hair wound around her fingers and soft lips pressed against her ear, whispering things she would desperately try to remember when she awoke.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The dining hall smelled of bacon, eggs and raspberry jam. The chatter of the students’ swelled like music, and sunlight streamed through the windows. Hermione was squeezed tightly between Harry and Ron, craning her neck to get a look at professor Mcgonagal, who was walking around the Gryffindor table, handing her fellow sixth years their class schedules. </p><p>	“Christ,” Ron was saying through a bite of toast, “I wish they’d stop it already.”</p><p>	“You can’t blame them, he's famous,” replied Hermione distractedly, who was still waiting anxiously for Mcgonagal to reach her, schedule in hand. A few fourth year girls, several seats down on the opposite sides of the table, were causing a bit of a scene. They were whispering, rather loudly, about Harry, who was ignoring them (although he had gone rather red in the face). </p><p>	Mcgonagal had finally reached the three of them. </p><p>	“Granger,” she said, sounding official, “You are approved to take everything you’ve signed up for. Would you like to make any changes to your schedule?”</p><p>“No Professor,” said Hermione quickly, grabbing the piece of parchment that was in Mcgonagal’s outstretched hand. “Oh!” she squeaked, looking at her schedule, “I’d better get going!” and without another word, she grabbed her book bag and dashed out of the dining hall and up the stairs to Arithmancy. </p><p>Most of the first week passed in a blur. The September air was still warm, and the lake, which could be seen from the windows of the Gryffindor common room, glittered perpetually in the sun. But the tempting weather was not to be enjoyed. The sixth years already had mountains of homework, and the increased difficulty of their classes kept everyone very busy and very much inside. Although Hermione’s head was already full of new spells, new potion recipes and rather complicated magical theory, there still seemed to be part of her mind that was reserved for Pansy. The two girls had three classes together; Ancient Runes, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. In all three classes, Hermione always chose her seat very carefully; as far away from Pansy as possible. But even with this extra precaution, she still couldn’t seem to help herself. She stole glances at Pansy every chance she got, in the dining hall, during classes, in the corridors, and she could swear that she sometimes caught Pansy looking back at her, but both girls always looked away too quickly for Hermione to be sure of anything.</p><p>Hermione continued to try desperately to keep Pansy from her mind, to no avail. She reminded herself that they barely knew each other, that Pansy couldn’t possibly be interested (she had a boyfriend after all!) and even if she was interested, there was no way it could work. Although she knew in her heart her friends would accept her, she still couldn’t imagine telling them that she fancied a girl, and besides that, Pansy was a Slytherin. She didn’t know of many relationships between Gryfindors and Slytherins, and even if she knew Harry and Ron wouldn’t care if she was with another girl, she wasn’t so sure about how they would feel about her seeing someone from their rival house. </p><p>The only things that were able to push Pansy out of Hermione’s mind were her increasingly difficult homework, and her conversations with Harry and Ron. Between the ever present threat of He Who Must Not Be Named, Harry’s newfound notoriety (he had gotten even more famous over the summer) and the excitement of seeing their peers again after several months apart, the three of them had much to discuss. They had taken to holding lengthy conversations whilst sitting next to the fireplace nearly every evening, after Hermione had finished her homework and the boys had gotten through at least half of theirs. </p><p>	“Well I think she’s pathetic,” Hermione was saying, as she scratched off one of Ron’s weaker sentences in his essay on Defensive Spells. It was Thursday night, and she was sitting on the floor, her back resting against Harry’s legs, who was once again studying the Marauder’s Map intently, as he had been doing quite often over the past several days.</p><p>	“She’s not bad looking,” argued Ron, who was lounging in the red armchair he had ordered a frightened looking first year out of, “and she’s in love with you,” he said, turning to Harry. The three were discussing whether or not Harry should try and get with Romilda Vane, a fourth year who seemed to have taken a liking to him.</p><p>	“Oh I dunno,” replied Harry, who was starting to look rather uncomfortable.</p><p>	“Harry, if you sleep with her, I will lose all respect for you,” said Hermione forcefully, continuing to make marks on Ron’s essay.</p><p>	“Oh come on,” Ron laughed, throwing up his arms, “low hanging fruit!”</p><p>	“If I’m being honest, she’s starting to scare me,” admitted Harry, invoking another burst of laughter from Ron. “I’m serious!” he continued earnestly, “I think she’s going to try and slip me a love potion!”</p><p>	“Harry, she’s- Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Ron interrupted himself, whipping his head around as Ginny walked past.</p><p>	“I fancy a walk,” she said defensively, and before Ron could continue his interrogation, she had slipped out of the portrait hole.</p><p>	“She keeps sneaking off to see someone, I just know it,” said Ron angrily, all trace of laughter gone from his voice, “and I want to know who it is.”</p><p>	“What’s it to you?” asked Harry absentmindedly, turning back to the Marauder's Map.</p><p>	“What’s it to me?” spat Ron, even angrier than before, “She’s my bloody sister that’s what!”</p><p>“Okay! Sorry,” Harry replied quickly, trying to avoid a row.</p><p>“Oh come on Ron,” said Hermione reasonably, looking up from his essay. “She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”</p><p>“I just want to make sure he’s a nice guy, that’s all!” said Ron, who was beginning to look worried. </p><p>The three continued the rest of their work in silence, and soon enough Hermione had finished editing Ron’s essay and began to knit. She had gotten quite good at it over the summer and was now keen to continue doing it ‘the muggle way.’ Not long after he had gotten his essay back, Ron went to bed, still looking disgruntled. Harry and Hermione stayed in the common room for several hours longer as most of the others trickled up to bed, sitting together in a comfortable silence, both completely lost in thought.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Friday morning dawned cold and grey, for autumn had begun to settle over the castle grounds in earnest. Fog clung to the corners of the dormitory windows, forming little beads that trickled down the stained glass like dark tears. Wind whistled through the tree branches below, and the lake was no longer glassy and smooth. The smell of clean laundry and someone’s flowery perfume hung about the room, which was chilly and completely still.</p><p>Hermione sat bolt upright in her fourposter, knowing at once something was wrong. All of the beds around her were empty, and the room was silent. Frantically checking her watch, she let out gasp, it was nearly nine! Why had no one awoken her? Throwing her bed clothes off, Hermione raced around the dormitory pulling on her robes and shoes, gathering up her hair into a bun, and grabbing her bag. Her Defense Against the Dark Arts class started in only three minutes, and she knew Snape did not appreciate tardiness, at least from students outside of his house.</p><p>Hermione dashed out of Gryffindor tower and down the many moving staircases towards the classroom, heart hammering. She could not remember the last time she was late to a class. She passed several portraits who hollered at her to slow down, giving dire warnings of vanishing stairs and other possibly fatal obstacles. Finally, stumbling over her shoelaces, her bag slipping off of her shoulder, Hermione reached her destination. She could already hear Snape’s drawl coming from inside the classroom. Self consciously pulling her skirt down, she pushed open the door.</p><p>“You are late, Granger,” drawled Snape, turning to look at her, almost amused.</p><p>“I know, Professor. I’m sorry I-” </p><p>“I do not appreciate when students are late to my class,” Snape continued, talking right over Hermione’s stammering apology. “Ten points from Gryffindor, and detention this evening.”</p><p>Hermione had expected Snape to take points from her house, but she had certainly not expected detention. She had not gotten one of those since first year, and that was a least for a good cause. Several students snickered as Hermione stood rooted to the spot, a lump forming in her throat.</p><p>“She was only like a minute late!” exclaimed Ron, apparently outraged at this injustice. Harry looked as though he was ready to raise an argument as well. Slytherin students were often late to Snape’s class, and he rarely batted an eye at them.</p><p>“We will have no more outbursts from you Weasly,” sneered Snape, “unless you would like to join your friend Granger this evening. Take your seat,” he ordered Hermione, indicating an empty desk at the very back of the room, “we will discuss your detention after class.”</p><p>Trying very hard not to look upset, Hermione walked to her seat, which, unfortunately, was directly behind Pansy’s. Knowing that she had witnessed this entire humiliating event made the whole matter ten times worse. But to Hermione’s complete shock, Pansy cast her a sympathetic look as she walked past, a sympathetic look that was not at all imagined.</p><p>This seemingly insignificant gesture sent Hermione’s heart racing once again, and she felt her spirits lift significantly as she sat down at her desk and pulled out her books. This change in mood was short lived however, for after his long winded and rather dull lecture, Snape informed Hermione that she would be spending her evening sitting in his classroom, grading first years’ essays on the correct methods for dealing with pixie infestations. </p><p>Feeling embarrassed all over again, and dreading spending her first Friday night back at school with Snape, Hermione spent the rest of the day in a gloomy silence. Dinner only made matters worse. She had not seen Lavender or Parvati all day (she didn’t have any classes with either of them on Fridays), and when they arrived, halfway through dinner, to the table, they were looking quite pleased with themselves. </p><p>“Hi Ron,” said Lavender, twirling her hair and smiling sweetly. Ron blushed profusely at this bizarre greeting, and mumbled a hello. Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, making quite a scene, as Ginny, who was sitting next to him, thumped him on the back.</p><p>Rolling her eyes, but otherwise ignoring this interaction, Hermione put down her fork.</p><p>“Hello?” she said incredulously, looking from  Lavender to Parvati, “Why didn’t anyone wake me up this morning?”</p><p>“Oh, we didn’t think to,” said Lavender. Her flirtatious voice had completely evaporated, leaving a slight venomous quality behind. “Plus, we figured you could really use some beauty sleep.” Parvati quickly stifled a giggle.</p><p>“Well aren’t you two being pleasant,” said Ginny nastily, glaring at Lavender, as Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag, in what she hoped looked like a dignified manner.</p><p>“Are you leaving already,” said Harry, who had recovered from his choking fit, and was choosing to ignore the uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled over the table.</p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t want to be late again,” replied Hermione, shooting one last dirty look at Parvati and Lavender.  And without saying goodbye, she turned and strode out of the dinning hall. Furiously, she stormed up the steps that led back to Snape’s classroom. Those conniving little- why would they do that? While she had never been close with the two, she had always thought that they were friends, or at the very least friendly acquaintances. What would make them want to see her get herself into trouble? Still outraged, Hermione reached Snape’s classroom door, which was closed. Taking a deep breath to at least try and calm herself, she rapped smartly on the wooden door. </p><p>“Enter,” called Snape.</p><p>Hermione did as she was told, but before she could move any further into the room than the doorway, she stopped in her tracks, completely forgetting her anger. There, front and center, sitting in an old, rickety desk, looking as beautiful and mysterious as ever, sat Pansy Parkinson.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys, this is my very first fan fiction, so I'm not very good at this yet. I am completely open to suggestions, so if you have some ideas about how I could improve, or what you'd like to see in future chapters, I would love to hear it. I hope you enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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